Rotten Vines
by kenziescott54
Summary: Astoria Greengrass was raised as a pureblood supremacist. What made her change her mind? Written for a Herbology Assignment in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry forum.


**DISCLAIMER:** **I don't own Harry Potter**

* * *

It was Astoria's birthday, May 5th, and she was 5 years old. But she thought everyone might have forgotten.

She sat with her back ramrod straight on a big chair, her feet inches away from touching the ground; her robes were pitch-black and her hair was pulled back so tightly it made her head hurt. Beside her, Daphne sat equally straight and still, also dressed in black, and beside Daphne sat Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass.

Astoria sighed, and the little sound carried down the row. Her family looked at her out of the corners of her eyes, and she pressed her lips together quickly.

They closed the big gold box with a loud CLANG that made her jump. Her mother reached over the row as inconspicuously as she could and grabbed Astoria's hand, giving her a tense smile, trying to reassure her. Daphne and her father looked straight ahead, as if nothing had happened.

Astoria wanted to ask her mother, _why did they close that box? Grandfather is still in there! I saw him!_ But she had to be silent. They'd told her so.

"Dearly beloved," said the man in the white robes. Astoria had thought that it was strange, when everyone else was wearing black, for him to wear white; but no one else had seemed to think that, and now that he was standing at the front speaking to them and they were all sitting down, it seemed to make more sense. Maybe he had to wear white so he would remember that he couldn't sit down, too.

"We are gathered here today to honor the memory of Selwyn Greengrass," said the man in white to everyone - the Greengrass family, sitting in their four ornate chairs, and all the people sitting behind them in rows. Astoria listened to him very hard, afraid she might miss something. But soon, his words became uninteresting - and they made little sense to her, anyway. Instead, she looked at the heavy drapes that had been lowered over the usually open windows. They had draped the drawing room with black for today, and they had covered the windows and taken away all the things that made the room look pretty.

Her mother's hand tightened on hers, and she realized she'd been swinging her feet. She stopped.

The man in white had a lot to say. And it seemed to her to be taking him a very long time to say it. But finally he seemed to be done. But then her father got up and said something, and then when he sat down the man in white talked some more.

She must have drowsed with her back still straight, because she was suddenly aware of everyone standing up. She was no longer holding her mother's hand. She reached for Daphne's, because she wanted to hold _someone's_ hand, and Daphne's fingers closed over hers. She stood up, too.

They were pushing the gold box down the space between the rows of chairs, and then they pushed it through the double doors at the end, and then the Greengrasses turned, their father leading the way, and walked between the rows of chairs towards the door.

And then Astoria's father stopped and said, "Arthur."

Sometimes, in her more fanciful moments, Astoria thought that her father must be two different people. There was the _real_ him, the one that held her hand, and carried her when her feet hurt, or or threw her in the air and made her mother scream in fear, the one that could always make her laugh or make her stop crying.

Then there was the _other_ him - the nasty, ugly stranger with his face - the one that said mean things, and on occasion, made people look scared. She didn't like him, even though she really knew that he was the same person as her father.

But the other man, this second father of hers, he was the one that had spoken.

Astora was aware of her mother tensing, saw her whispering into her father's ear, but he pushed her gently away from him. She knew Daphne could see that something was wrong, too, because Daphne squeezed her hand tighter. All the people in black standing in front of their chairs stared at her father.

"Arthur," he said again, in the nasty voice. "What are you doing here?"

The man he spoke to looked different from all the rest. His black robes were slightly wrinkled, and the ends of his sleeves seemed frayed. He looked back at her father, and he did not look the least bit scared.

"I came to pay my respects," he said.

"What makes you think you have the right to do that?!" shouted Astoria's father, so loudly that everyone started slightly. Daphne and Astoria clutched each other's hands harder. "What makes you think you have the right to even set foot in this house? If I could wipe your name off the Sacred Twenty-Eight tomorrow, I wouldn't hesitate to do so."

"Neither would I, Cyril Greengrass," said Arthur, in a quiet but venomous voice. "And yet, my name is still on the list, and I still am required to pay my respects."

Everyone in the room was listening in rapt attention. Astoria caught the eye of Tracey, one of Daphne's friends. Tracey's eyes were almost completely round.

"Consider yourself freed from all such future engagements as they apply to my family," Cyril snarled. There was a slight gasp from Mrs. Davis, Tracey's mother.

"Likewise, Cyril," said Arthur coolly.

Without taking his eyes off of Arthur, Astoria's father said, "I have had no argument with anyone in this room. That may change, depending on how they choose to associate themselves from now on. We must remove all rotten vines to keep the flowers pure."

Of course, Astoria didn't understand it at the time. She only understood that her father was making a scene at her grandfather's funeral. But later, when she was older, she came to realize the truth: her father had that day effectively banished Arthur Weasley from Pureblood society.

* * *

"She'll be _fine,"_ said Daphne, almost impatiently, tugging at her mother's trailing sleeve. "Mother, honestly, we'll miss the train. I've got her, she'll be fine." She took Astoria's other hand reassuringly.

Astoria's mother hugged her again. "Goodbye, darling," she said, for the third or fourth time.

"Goodbye, mother," Astoria said, suddenly stung by the realization of how much she would miss her mother. She had spent her entire year waiting, waiting, _waiting_ for her Hogwarts letter to come; now that it was here and she was leaving, she realized what she was leaving behind.

"I love you, Mummy!"

"I love you too, darling! Now go!"

They were on the Hogwarts train, on to a completely different and new adventure.

* * *

Astoria shifted on her feet.

She knew she hadn't been waiting that long, but it felt rather like forever; it seemed as if a million people had had their names called already, had ascended the steps and sat down in the chair and had the Sorting Hat placed on her head.

Finally, the tall, grey-haired witch, the one Daphne had said was named McGonagall, called out,

"Astoria Greengrass!"

Astoria swallowed nervously, glancing back at the Slytherin table. Daphne waved at her encouragingly, and Astoria ascended the stairs and seated herself in the chair.

McGonagall placed the hat on her head.

"Hmm, another Greengrass," the Hat murmured. "A pureblood of course - and yet - yes, there is something in the heart…"

Astoria waited, watching the Slytherin table. Daphne was smiling at her.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the Hat.

Daphne half rose from her seat, her mouth open. Astoria stared up at McGonagall as she removed the hat from her head.

"There's got to be some mistake," she said in a whisper. "You see, I'm a Greengrass."

"You have been sorted," said McGonagall firmly, but not unkindly. "Take your place at the Hufflepuff table, Miss Greengrass."

"But I'm a Greengrass," Astoria echoed. "I can't be in Hufflepuff. That's the wrong House."

"You can't change your House, Miss Greengrass. The Sorting is permanent," said McGonagall, in a voice that brookd no argument. "Now please, take your seat."

Astoria got to her feet, glancing once more at Daphne; her older sister looked as shell-shocked as Astoria felt.

Hufflepuff. _Hufflepuff._

How could Astoria be a Hufflepuff? Greengrasses were always Slytherins. Astoria wondered, as she took her place at the table, what on earth her parents would say; and her friends, who were all in Slytherin house, what would _they_ think? SHe glanced over her shoulder and searched for Daphne at the Slytherin table, but her sister's face was not turned in her direction; and it did not turn towards her for the entire meal.

* * *

"Daphne! _Daphne_!"

Daphne must have heard Astoria shouting as they were leaving the Great Hall, but she didn't turn around until Astoria was nearly on her heels.

"You can tell the Hat what you want," she said, and her voice was sharp and icy. Astoria stopped dead; that was the tone Daphne used on other people, people that deserved it, not Astoria.

"What do you mean?" she asked faintly.

" _You can tell it what you want_!" Daphne shouted. "Didn't it occur to you to mention you wanted Slytherin?"

"How was I meant to know it would sort me into Hufflepuff?" Astoria protested, backing away. She didn't quite understand Daphne's anger, and it frightened her a little.

"It shouldn't have paused, you know," Daphne snarled. "And when it did, you should have known that was the moment to speak to it."

"But I didn't know -"

"It doesn't matter, Astoria," said Daphne. "IT PAUSED! It shouldn't have, not at all! It should have KNOWN! But it didn't, because you clearly aren't a real Slytherin."

"I'm sorry!" Astoria said, though she wasn't quite sure what she was apologizing for; she just wanted Daphne to go back to normal.

"'Sorry' doesn't cut it," Daphne shot back. "The Hat thought you were a Hufflepuff. You know what that means? You're mud, you're filth. You're in a house with Mudbloods and Halfbloods! Something in you was never worthy enough to be a Slytherin, _or that Hat wouldn't have paused_."

"Come on, Daphne," said Pansy impatiently. Astoria looked up at her; Pansy had really always been Daphne's friend, not hers, but she still knew Pansy well enough to call her a friend. But Pansy's face, as she looked at Astoria, was carefully blank.

Without another word, Daphne turned her back on Astoria and hurried down the hall. "Daphne! Wait!" Astoria shrieked, hurrying after her.

Daphne turned and snapped, without stopping, "Leave me alone!" And then she was gone.

Astoria didn't cry about it that day, or the day after; she was still too confused by Daphne's unexpected reaction. She wrote a letter to her parents, detailing the day of her sorting but completely leaving out Daphne's reaction. Daphne would come around, of course; Astoria was sure of that, but at the moment Daphne was snubbing Astoria. Whenever she happened to see her sister around school, Daphne turned away as if she didn't even know Astoria.

All this was puzzling, but bearable.

Then she got her parents' first letter.

* * *

Astoria was alone in the library when she opened the letter. She had gotten it at breakfast, but she'd wanted to save it for later, when she was alone.

Astoria opened the letter, smiling at her father's familiar handwriting. She had been looking forward to this letter ever since sending its predecessor, her post-Sorting letter, two weeks earlier. She was rather surprised it had taken so long. She laid the letter across her book, disappointed at its length; it was only about a page long.

It read:

 _Astoria:_

 _Your mother and I have received your letter containing news of your Sorting. While we are certain that you wish to do everything you can to change your House, you have by now doubtless found out that you cannot do so._

 _Astoria, before you hear what we say next, please pay close attention to our reason for saying it. The Sorting Hat is never wrong. That means that if you were sorted into Hufflepuff, you are a true Hufflepuff. There is no shame in that house, for those who deserve it. But you are a daughter of the Greengrass family, one of the sacred twenty-eight, and we have been Slytherins for centuries._

 _Do you recall the member of our family that was not a Slytherin? It was Mary Greycross, nee Greengrass, whose sorting into the House of Ravenclaw resulted in her marriage to a half-blood. You are now old enough to know what was done to her after she was married: she was visited on the first night of her honeymoon and killed by her family._

 _We do not wish for that to happen, Astoria. And we don't think that you will ever sink low enough to marry one who is not of pure blood. But you will understand why, from this moment onwards, we must distance you from our family. We do so not out of malice or hatred, but necessity._

 _Astoria, you are not disowned. You may keep the name of Greengrass. You are still a pureblood, and you would do well to remember this. But you were sorted in the House of Hufflepuff, a great disappointment to ourselves as it must be to you, because that House, like every House apart from Slytherin, opens its doors to all, including those of impure blood._

 _And as we have said, the Sorting Hat is never wrong. As hard as it is to accept, it knew its business when it sorted you. That must mean, Astoria, that deep within you there is something that treasures the impure, or at the very least accepts it, and that is why we must create a rift between ourselves and you._

The paper shook in Astoria's hand. Her eyes scanned the words over and over, while her heart said: _it's a mistake. It isn't real. You are dreaming_. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she ignored them.

She knew, like she knew her own name, knew that Pureblood families like her own were vastly superior to the rest of the Wizarding World. She was familiar with the disdain with which people of her standing must treat those below them. She had grown up knowing all that. But she was one of the Purebloods, not one of the ones they looked down on! _She_ was a Greengrass! This was all wrong.

So this was why Daphne wouldn't speak to her.

 _But I'm as pure as it gets!_ she cried to herself.

The letter in her hands declared otherwise.

She cast back in her mind, all the way back to the time her father had denounced Arthur Weasley in front of the rest of the Sacred Twenty-Eight; _we must remove all rotten vines to keep the flowers pure._

Rotten vines. Astoria Greengrass was rotten vines, and she had to be removed.

* * *

That was a hard time for young Astoria. Since she had received the letter from her parents, she fully understood Daphne's anger. Now she almost wished Daphne would be angry with her again; these days, her older sister, once her best friend, gave no indication that she remembered Astoria's existence. She no longer avoided Astoria; she just looked right through her, as did her gang of friends.

Astoria knew the ideals with which most have them had been raised by heart; she understood the disdain with which they treated others, understood the way they saw the world; but it stung when they treated _her_ this way, and for that reason, things began to seem different to her.

Astoria was only a child, and a sheltered one at that. She didn't understand that her mindset was in the process of being changed; she only understood that things seemed to be far, far different in the "real world" that she had always wanted to enter than she had thought they would be, and that she had to learn how to change because of that.

It took a very long time, but she started to get used to her House. Hufflepuff valued determination, hard work, fairness, equality, patience, kindness, and loyalty. While this didn't mean that all of Astoria's fellow Hufflepuffs were always determined, hard-working, fair, patient, and kind, it did mean that the these were the prevailing sentiments of the House; that to act otherwise was looked at rather askance.

Astoria, as she learned more about her House, tried hard to understand what made made her fit to be sorted into a House with Muggleborns and Halfbloods (the word _Mudblood_ , once an integral part of Astoria's vocabulary, was forbidden in Hufflepuff). At first she believed it was because something was wrong with her, that at her core, as her father had said in his letter, she was either impure herself or attracted to the impure.

But she could not find fault with her fellow Hufflepuffs.

To her surprise, she began to observe that she rather liked them. They were generally considerate and thoughtful, and it made Astoria wonder if blood really made someone impure. And if so, what was impurity, really? She could clearly see the difference between the Hufflepuffs and her own ingrained values - was this impurity? If it was, what made it so? There seemed to be a great deal of things about this "impure" condition that didn't seem impure at all.

It would take a long time for Astoria to grow into the woman that eventually denounced Lord Voldemort and fought against him in the Battle of Hogwarts. But whenever she asked herself what the crucial moment that separated her from girl and adult, from Slytherin and Hufflepuff, from Pureblood supremacist to Muggle-friendly, Astoria could point to the time in her life right after she was sorted into Hufflepuff.

* * *

 **I know someone will tell me Astoria was sorted into Slytherin, but we are never told what House she comes from, only that she is not a supremacist.**

 **Assignment:** Write about one of the moments in your chosen character's life that signifies their transition to adulthood.

 **Word Prompt used:** Flower

 **Total words before AN's:** 2,995 (Yes, I cut it close).


End file.
